Somewhere Over the Freaking Rainbow - By L.L. Muir Page 0,12
his windshield. Those wonderful eyes were easy to see from a distance, and his profile showed the high cheekbones and square jaw he’d inherited from Kenneth. She wished she could see his dimples, the long ones that ran down the sides of his face when he laughed and the vague divot in his chin. He didn’t laugh nearly enough.
She heard their conversation clearly.
Jamison was respectful while Sheriff Cooke lectured.
“I know you kids like to cut it up a bit during Homecoming week, but it's stunts like this that have our older citizens afraid to go out after supper.”
“Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir.”
Skye tried to soften the sheriff’s heart a little, bringing up memories from when he had been a teenager, feeling the urge to speed down an empty road.
Yeah, he remembered. A lot.
Apparently, the sheriff had learned early on if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. And somewhere in the sheriff’s office was a beautifully framed copy of his own arrest record, primarily for speeding. Skye couldn't help but laugh.
Jamison's head snapped sharply to the branches on which she perched and she stopped laughing.
There was no possible way he could see her. Even though she was tempted to show herself, she held her wishes in check. And why would he have heard—from inside the car—when the sheriff had shown no reaction? Besides, she was a good distance away. Mortal ears could pick up very little at that distance, and it wasn't as if she'd been loud.
Did the connection work both ways?
“I know just what you're going through, son. New in town and all—well, kind of new in town, I guess. I'll just give you a warning tonight...”
Jamison turned his attention back to the officer.
“...since you're Ken Jamison's and all.” The man leaned on the car roof and lowered his voice. “How's he doing, anyway?”
“He's doing fine. I just saw him a little while ago.”
“Well, we're praying for him. Will you tell him that? And let him know the sheriff's office will keep an eye on his place, and his grandson?”
“Yes, sir. I'll tell him. Thank you, sir.”
“You a Junior?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It might not be too late, you being a transfer and all...”
“Sorry, sir. I don't play football.”
The sheriff looked like he might be reconsidering that speeding ticket after all.
“Maybe next year, though. If someone can teach me the rules.”
The sheriff laughed and dropped his arm. “If someone can teach you the rules. That's a scream.” He started walking back to his SUV. “If someone can teach him the rules,” he muttered and laughed again.
Jamison looked up at her again, or maybe he was just looking up, thinking. But then whatever he'd been thinking couldn't have been good; he jumped out of his car and ran to the sheriff’s vehicle.
The man rolled down his window.
“Sheriff? Hey, uh, would you mind helping me out for a minute?”
“What is it, son?”
“Uh. Uh. I need to go onto the Somerled compound and talk to them, and I uh...uh...”
“And you don't want to go alone? That's silly, son. They're friends of your Granddad's. Been helping him bring in his crops ever since they moved in, and they did the whole season for him this year. They're good people. The best.”
“I know. I know, but, it's just that there's this girl—”
“Skye? You scared of Skye?” The sheriff raised his chin and blinked slowly. “Ah, I see. Well, let's get going, if we're going.”
“Really? Oh, that's great. Thanks.”
Jamison ran back to his car and Skye shimmied down the tree. Two seconds after her feet hit the ground, she was inside the house, leaning back against the door.
Jonathan stood five feet from her, hands on his hips, frowning.
“Not now, Jonathan. The sheriff is coming. With Kenneth's grandson.”
Jonathan looked toward the window.
“Oh? I think now is the perfect time. Dont' you?”
“Perfect time for what?” Lucas came down the hall, filling the space with his wide and generously draped shoulders.
Oh, not Lucas!
Having to confess to Jonathon would have been bad enough. She might have even been able to get most of it out before the doorbell rang, maybe even gotten a gentle reading of the situation from him without having to hear Lucas’ opinion. But now, with Marcus gone, and Lucas in charge, she felt like she'd been sent straight to the judge without first getting to explain to her lawyer.
CHAPTER SIX
With the sheriff following closely, Jamison had never driven so perfectly in his life.
He held his breath, as he always had, when he drove under that beloved arch of tree